


curl me up inside you and let me hear you through the heat

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Kingsguard, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robb Stark is a Gift, if you want angst this isn't the droid you're looking for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Theon is the Lord Commander of Robb's kingsguard and they make excellent use of the Small Council's table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	curl me up inside you and let me hear you through the heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mockyrfears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockyrfears/gifts).



> And in more recent reposts this was [sansastark](http://sansastark.tumblr.com/)'s birthday present from this year. The prompt was porn with kingsguard!Theon. Which is a scenario I'm only too happy to revisit when I can for reasons. Anyway, the title is from Suzanne Vega in a shocking break from the usual Gaslight Anthem rehash and I definitely don't own these dorks. Pity because they'd have liked this better I think. /o\

“The king wants you, ser. He says you don’t need to be armed for it. In the Small Council’s room.”

Theon doesn’t know what amuses him more about former the Grandmaester Pycelle’s tone – on one side he’s trying to sound deferential and on the other it’s obvious that he thinks Theon is the worst thing that might have happened to the Kingsguard, but never mind. First, Pycelle's only still there out of the goodness of Robb’s heart, and he’s not even Grandmaester anymore, not since Robb had sent for Luwin from Winterfell, so the joke is on him. And Theon is entirely fine with people looking at him wrong now. They can look wrong as much as they like – he is the Lord Commander, not them. Who even gives a shit.

“Thank you, I’ll be there in a moment.”

He has no clue why Robb sent for him when he’s supposed to go back to guard duty in an hour or so, but he’ll hardly be the one complaining about that either. He finishes his wine and leaves the tavern just outside the palace where he had gone for a drink – he still doesn’t overtly like King’s Landing but the weather is nicer than his homeland or the North and Dornish wine is a lot cheaper than it was back at Winterfell, so he’s going to take advantage of that – and heads back for the Red Keep. He doesn’t stop to put armor on – now he really wants to know why Robb specified that he shouldn’t have. He makes sure he hasn’t spilled wine on his pristine white tunic when he passes in front of the White Sword tower – he can grab clothes from his room if he has to change – and then moves forward when he’s sure he doesn’t need to.

He’s in the Small Council’s room not long later – Robb’s sitting at the head of the table and he had been with Dacey Mormont, but he dismisses her when he comes in. Dacey nods at Theon on the way out and winks at him – what? Robb has to be up to something. And right, she knows that Theon’s not exactly keeping his chastity vow, so maybe it’s related to that?

He supposes he’ll find out soon – he locks the door after Dacey walks out, then moves over to Robb’s seat.

“Does His Grace have a sudden need of my presence when I was going to come in anyway not long from now?”

Robb rolls his eyes. “You would have come with armor on and just in time for another rather tedious session of the council. And I had other plans.”

“Very well. And what are your other plans?”

Robb leans back on the seat and glances at the table. “Don’t you see any difference?”

Theon takes a better look at the table.

And at the chairs, for that matter – because right, nothing has overtly changed but the linen covering it is now all Stark gray, same as the seats. The cushions are all gray now, and when Robb stands up and pushes his own away Theon notices the dark gray direwolf sewn into it.

“Well, it definitely looks better now. So what, you wanted to show me how you’re trying to turn the Red Keep into the Gray Keep?”

Robb snorts openly before taking a couple of steps closer to him, moving next to his side.

“Maybe, but that’s not all. Raise up the cover.

“… All right.”

Theon does and – there’s the old red and gold cloth underneath?

"You kept the Lannister one because it was a waste to throw it away?”

“Not exactly. I kept it, but I reckon it won’t be there when the council starts.”

Oh. Theon thinks he’s seeing how this is going to go.

“Let me guess, you wish for us to put this flat surface to good use without ruining your brand new Stark cover and at the same time wondering what Tywin and Cersei Lannister would think of us fucking over their House sigil? And maybe that’s why you didn’t want me to come with armor?”

“See, if only all my bannermen realized that you’re in this position also because you’re quick on the uptake.”

Theon can’t help it – he laughs as he moves towards the head of the table, throwing the new cover back on his way – now half the table looks gray and half red and gold. He figures it’s plenty enough.

“Maybe it’s better if they don’t,” he says, “but by all means, I don’t see why not.”

Robb hums as he comes closer and puts his hands over the white collar of Theon’s tunic – he unlaces it and opens it up slowly.

“Did I ever say that white looks good on you?”

“About every time you see me wearing it?”

“You’re lucky that I’m not the kind of person who wants all my subjects to agree with me,” Robb laughs as his hands move to Theon’s belt – he unbuckles it and he lets it clatter to the ground, sword and all. Theon smiles and leans back on the table, his hands gripping the edge – the red and gold cloth covering it is plenty soft, and the table looks sturdy enough. Good.

“Says the only king that people actually liked since Aerys Targaryen,” Theon mutters as Robb’s fingers undo the laces on his breeches.

“Wait, what?”

“You should get out of the castle and listen to the smallfolk,” Theon keeps on, and then he hoists himself up on the table and kicks off his boots as he keeps talking. “I mean, you wouldn’t know, there isn’t one person talking badly of you.”

“I’m sure there are some.” Truth to be told, Robb doesn’t seem bothered by the possibility at all, not as he motions for Theon to lay back. Theon grins and does, moving backwards until he’s using his elbows to hold himself up on the table – he stops when his knees curl around the edge. He’s sure it’s plenty enough for what Robb needs – good thing that the cloth is heavy enough that he can’t actually feel the wood beneath. He hoists his hips upwards as Robb reaches out and drags down his breeches and smallclothes.

“Maybe,” he agrees, “but if there are, no one listens to them. You should visit the city more often, people would throw you flowers.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it. I guess Sansa should enjoy them.”

“Why, you think I wouldn’t? I’m hurt.”

“I think there is a long list of things you should enjoy more than flowers,” Robb laughs, and – right, he does have a point, and then he’s unlacing his own breeches, good, and –

A moment later, the crazy bastard has put a knee on the table, hoisted himself on it and moved right on top of Theon, his hands slamming at the sides of his head and his knees touching Theon’s thighs.

“Well, that’s not wrong.” Theon keeps his voice down as he spreads his legs. “So how about you give some to me?”

“Gladly,” Robb says before moving one of his hands and bringing it behind Theon’s head.

There’s no hesitation as Robb kisses him once, then twice, then thrice as Theon sits up, figuring that they might as well get comfortable – after a bit of maneuvering, Robb is pretty much kneeling on his lap while they kiss, one of Theon’s hands grasping at his cloak while the other fumbles with Robb’s breeches. Somehow he manages to open them up further and push down the smallclothes without them having to move apart, and meanwhile Robb’s hands tangle up in his hair, his fingers running through it again and again.

And the table has barely creaked. Nice.

“Please tell me you have oil,” Theon breathes when they break off the sixth (seventh? he’s lost count) kiss.

“I wouldn’t have called for you if I hadn’t come prepared.” Robb smirks as he reaches down for some kind of pocket he must have inside his cloak and taking out the small vial.

Good.

“Well then.”

Theon smirks back and lays down fully on the table – his head ends up on the gray cloth, but he figures that’s not what they should be worrying about that now. Robb moves back and tugs off his breeches entirely and then Theon doesn’t even wait for him to ask before spreading his legs – they might have time, but it doesn’t mean they can take forever.

“Nice,” Robb remarks before grabbing the vial and coating two fingers with its content – he goes straight for it, both fingers pushing inside him slow but steady, never mind that they do this often enough that it’s not really that painful anymore. Which is good – less time to lose. He grasps at the edges of the table while Robb’s fingers push inside and inside, and he bites down on his tongue when he adds a third and starts teasing, because of course he knows perfectly where to push but he doesn’t go for it when it’s still just fingers. Damn. He hopes that one of these evenings Robb is up for a way longer fuck on a real bed, though for now this is plenty less uncomfortable than anyone might think.

“Hey, do you need more?” Robb breathes a moment later – his cheeks are flushed under his neatly trimmed beard, his eyes are all pupil and Theon needs him to just get a move on now.

“I think I can handle you, your Grace.” Theon doesn’t know how he doesn’t moan out loud instead of actually speaking, but then Robb snorts and pours some more oil on his hand – he gives his cock a couple of strokes before positioning himself. And then he starts going in slowly, which is good because they need to find a good position – Theon doesn’t waste time and hooks his ankles behind Robb’s back as Robb’s knees press against the table. He keeps on holding on to the table though, and he bites down on his tongue when Robb finally goes all the way – it hurts a bit, and there’s some burn, but overall it’s damn good, also because Robb isn’t pushing overtly and is obviously waiting for him to get his bearings.

“Shit,” he says, “yes, that’s good, you can move.”

And Robb does, slow, slides out and then slides back in, and yes yes yes it’s perfect, it’s hurting just slightly and he likes the sensation anyway, always has, but –

“Ah, damn, I should’ve thought this through,” Robb breathes out a moment later.

“What?”

“I don’t think we can kiss like this.”

“Wait, Robb, is that what you’re worrying about now, just go ahead –”

“Not yet.”

And then – then Robb doesn’t pull out, but his hands move from the side of his head to his shoulders, and he slowly, slowly drags them both back to the side (bringing the table cover with) until Theon’s sitting on the edge and Robb’s standing with his feet on the ground, and at that Theon has to wrap his legs tighter around Robb’s waist lest this becomes painful.

Robb looks plenty more satisfied with the position now, from the way he’s grinning.

“Are you happy now?”

“I’m plenty happier now that I can do this,” Robb replies, and then he has a hand around Theon’s waist, another at the back of his head and he starts fucking into him again, and yes yes yes maybe he had a point – fine, being pretty much with his back pressing against the table’s edge is fucking painful, but the way Robb grasps at him is making him completely forget, never mind that fine, maybe Robb has a point, not kissing would be disappointing, and so he just moans back into Robb’s mouth, and then the hand Robb had at the back of his head moves in between them and –

Right, that’s it, he knows he’s not going to last long but he tries to hold on for a bit, if anything because for once he’d really like Robb to come first, and for once it happens – Robb starts stroking his cock with short, swift movements but then his hand falters and Theon can feel the moment he bottoms out and just stops because he’s right there and he’s coming inside Theon, and hard enough that Theon has to wrap his legs around Robb tighter since his grip is faltering generally.

Never mind that they definitely ruined the old table cover.

He stands there, not moving, just breathing in as Robb shivers against him, and then there’s just the two of them panting in the silence of the room, and then –

Then Robb pulls out slowly, very slowly, his mouth going back on Theon’s – it’s hardly a refined kiss, but it swallows Theon’s moan when Robb strokes him again and again as he sits up fully on the table, and it doesn’t really take him long. He gets there with another few strokes, and then Robb first keeps on moving his fingers as he comes, but then –

Then he drops down on his knees and takes Theon in his mouth while he’s still coming _gods_ , and there’s a small council meeting in less than an hour _how is he even going to face people_ , Theon would like to know that, but then he stops thinking about that the moment Robb runs his tongue along the oversensitive head of his cock and only worries about how good it feels and about grasping at the tablecloth lest he loses his balance.

Which just might happened, considering how hard he’s come, and then Robb moves away when he’s done and stands back up his hands going to Theon’s waist and their foreheads touching – his cheeks are completely flushed and Theon doesn’t doubt he looks very much similar.

Theon glances down at the table – the red and gold cover is completely ruined.

“Well, I guess that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

At that, he hooks his legs around Robb’s hips again, though loosely – they’re both spent and they really have to clean up, but for now he thinks they can afford to take a moment.

“Indeed. We should do that again, sometime.”

“If you’re thinking about that blasted throne, you can forget it. I love you, but not enough to risk getting myself sliced on that trap or losing limbs to it.”

Robb stares at him for a moment and then bursts out laughing without even trying to keep it in – he shakes his head once, twice, and then his hands go up to Theon’s face.

“Good thing that I love you enough not to even want your precious limbs near it, then.”

“Indeed. And we really should move, now.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you. I told Dacey to warn the council that I would have to delay today's session. Until tomorrow.”

At that, Theon bursts laughing against Robb’s mouth, not even trying to keep it in.

“If that’s the way it is, I’m in no hurry. Your Grace.”

“Neither am I, Lord Commander.”

So maybe they’re both grinning at each other in ways not many kings have grinned at their lord commanders and viceversa, but no one is around to reprimand them for it, right?

Robb kisses him all over again, slow and nice and easy as the late afternoon sun warms up the room, and not for the first or last time, Theon does not regret the choices that brought the both them here at all.

 

End.


End file.
